


Don't Ask Her...

by FythyrWisp



Series: Dirt Road Rejects [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Family, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 01:10:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15938639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FythyrWisp/pseuds/FythyrWisp
Summary: (A/N: This deleted scene would have occurred during the six year time gap between Chapter 56 and Chapter 57 of DRR: Stained and Unashamed, and was omitted because there wasn't enough content to warrant breaking that jump.No sex. No violence. Mild language and alcohol use.Enjoy! FythyrWisp)





	Don't Ask Her...

**Author's Note:**

> (A/N: This deleted scene would have occurred during the six year time gap between Chapter 56 and Chapter 57 of DRR: Stained and Unashamed, and was omitted because there wasn't enough content to warrant breaking that jump.
> 
> No sex. No violence. Mild language and alcohol use.
> 
> Enjoy! FythyrWisp)

* * *

Each of the triad of close friends was well aware that life, adult life, was closing in on them as Ben's college graduation neared.

Jack had managed to finish up a year early, and was settling into a more lucrative job, and Xander, of course, had dropped out, and was now working full time between both locations of Singer Auto as needed, and volunteering in his free time.

In an attempt to slow that encroaching maturity, the end of an era they all felt coming, they set an evening and time, and hauled a cooler out onto the old disused ranch, deciding to risk asking forgiveness rather than permission, and set up a small bonfire.

"Don't do it, man. Chicks are trouble," Jack said, but his tone was obviously joking.

"Says the guy that doesn't have one," Xander commented.

"I've been thinking about it since she moved in," Ben admitted, "It always just seemed like the wrong time, like right after everything with Caitlin, too soon. Then her grandma got sick, bad timing. Then all that shit with that tax thing, that wasn't even my fault, but-"

"So basically, you're gonna do it anyway. Why the hell are you even talking about it?" Xander asked, pulling another beer from the cooler.

"I don't think she's ever gotten mad at me," Ben said softly.

Jack blinked in surprise, "What? Shit. Let's hit a strip club and bring you home plastered, covered in glitter with some girl's number written on your hand, that'll fix it."

"No, I just keep thinking, I mean, I've seen Dad and Pops get into it, I know my mom got pissed at Dad at least a couple of times, just... God, I can't figure out any way to put this... How the hell am I supposed to treat her right if she doesn't tell me when I screw up?" Ben asked.

"She'll say yes. Just go for it and quit thinking about it so hard, Bitchester" Jack said, as though it were obvious.

Ben heaved an exaggerated sigh, "Are you assholes going to talk me out of this or not?"

"Not," Xander answered.

"Don't do it, man. Don't ask her. We'll run Cora off and be bachelors for life," Jack replied.

Of course the answer had been in jest, but the phrasing was enough to remind him of advice he'd received many years prior, which appeared to easily apply once again, even distracted as he was by his brothers' continuing antics.

* * *

It had been a long two weeks, loaded with anxiety, and second-guessing his every possible word, location, phrasing, or silence as coming of as hokey or overplayed.

After a fairly jittery dinner, which he'd only managed to eat because Millie seemed to be suspicious that something was wrong with her cooking, he'd quickly loaded the dishwasher before ducking off to the bedroom and digging the insert out of a watch box for a Rolex Alfie had given him for his high school graduation. He tipped the box over into his hand, as he'd done several times before, each time succumbing to sudden panic before shutting it all away again in the back of the drawer... But not this time.

He stowed the small piece of jewelry in his pocket, even as his heart began to pound, and went back to the living room. He'd gone so far as to check the forecast to be sure the skies would be clear. If he could get her there, he was sure it would happen.

Millie was curled up on the couch, just a few minutes into a show, but he leaned on the back of the couch and gently poked her in the side of the head, a former annoyance that had become an inside joke at some point.

"I thought you had a headache or something," Millie said softly, pausing the television, "I can back it up."

Ben shook his head, "I want to show you something. Come outside with me?"

"Sure," she said, setting the remote down and getting up from the couch. She stepped into a pair of flip flops, "Where are we going?"

Ben opened the back door, "It's in the barn."

"Kinky."

Ben snorted as her choice humor took the edge off his nerves for a moment, and he waited until she'd gone ahead of him before pulling the door shut behind him.

Using the light on his phone, he led the way to the barn, which currently served only as a very, very oversized garden shed, outside of the fenced in back yard. He'd done what he could during the day a few days before while she'd been at work. The boards were all stable and safe, he'd even swept the area around the hayloft's dutch door that opened to a pulley fastened to the beam just above for raising heavy bales.

He guided her up the ladder in the dark barn, and carefully to the door in question, his stomach churning, and his blood running cold as he passed her the phone, only to find the door had stuck shut. Putting a bit more muscle into it, but wary of the drop on the other side, he braced himself on the frame as he gave a few hard pushes.

"Don't fall. I'm serious, Ben, if you fall, just-"

The door gave way, and he carefully pushed it aside.

Millie never had much reason to go near the barn, and it held little interest for her. As such, she'd never been in the loft before, despite living there for two years.

The terrain was flat enough that the view encompassed the town, spread out below them in a way that was mostly blocked from the front of the house. They weren't quite at such an elevation as the house in the junk yard, where Ben used to climb onto the roof, but the lights of the town sparkled much in the same manner.

"Woah," Millie breathed, momentarily enraptured at the unexpected sight.

Ben carefully eased himself to the floor, tempted to dangle his legs out of the doorway, but thinking better of it, he leaned on the frame, and stretched out slightly, pulling her close as she joined him.

"So, I know things are about to get really crazy, since I'm going to be commuting for veterinary school, and all, and it's probably going to take a lot of my time, I just wanted to come up here and spend some time with you before everything else gets in the way," Ben said quietly, catching a hint of a smile on Millie's face.

"It's nice... We should open this wall up more, and bring a couch up here. You should've told me about this."

"Nah, this is good. For right now, anyway... Anyway... The other night, Jack said something stupid, and it got me thinking. You remember, um, middle school when I asked you to the Valentine's Day dance?" Ben asked.

"Our first date. But not a date. But maybe a date. If I wanted. Yeah," she chuckled, "I remember that. You were a mess."

"Yeah, well, before I asked you, I asked Claire what she thought, because, you know, I had no idea what the hell I was doing, and she had the best advice for me," he dropped his hand to his pocket, silently praying he wasn't drawing any attention to his movement, and hooked his finger into the ring.

"She's pretty good at that," Millie commented.

"Well, I don't know if she knows how good that advice was."

"Why? What'd she say?" she asked.

"She said 'Don't ask her because you know she'll say yes. Ask her because you want to go with her,'" Ben answered, certain his hands were beginning to shake.

"Well, you did say I wasn't a backup plan, and-" Millie stopped as Ben suddenly held the ring up a few inches in front of her face in the darkness. She turned to look at him with something that seemed like concern in her eyes.

"Marry me?" Ben asked, shortly before the nearly breathless rambling began, "I want to put a label on this thing, okay? And I know it's fixing to get crazy, and I would completely understand if that's too much crazy to do this, too, but just, I want you to know I'm not asking because I know you'll say yes, okay? It's not because this is easy with you, even though it is, it's-, actually, it's kind of easy, but that's not why-"

"Ben, shut up."

Ben swallowed hard as he quieted abruptly, and his arm holding the ring was suddenly very tired, it was taking everything he had to keep it steady.

"I'm not going to say yes because you expect me to, I'm saying yes because it's yes," Millie answered quietly, a smile crossing her face in a way made him want to cry.

As his arms refused to move, she raised her left hand, making her ring finger easily available for him, but despite her efforts to meet him halfway, a rush of adrenaline made him fumble, and just as he made contact to slide the ring onto her finger, it seemed to jump from his hand, bounce off the edge of the bottom of the doorframe, and dropped to the ground two stories below.

"Oh, shit," Ben swore under his breath before realizing Millie had started to giggle.

"It's okay. Really. We can rent a metal detector, it'll turn up."

"That was my-... my mom's ring," Ben answered softly, watching her expression change to one similar to his own as she realized he was serious.

"Oh, shit... Okay, let's go find it," Millie got to her feet and started quickly for the ladder.

Still on the floor, only half-risen, but fittingly almost on one knee, Ben grabbed her hand, "Wait!"

"What?" Millie asked, turning back around.

"I-I, uh, I forgot to tell you I love you."

Millie nodded, "I think that part's pretty clear, Benji."

"Oh... Okay," Ben answered, accepting her help as she pulled him from the floor.

* * *

It had been a particularly long day at the shop, and Dean was exhausted. He'd barely made it through dinner and a quick shower before collapsing on the bed, the towel still round his waist, and his hair damp.

He was somewhat aware of Cas moving around in the bedroom, ducking into the bathroom once or twice, but his mind was having difficulty staying alert.

"...ran into them when I stopped at the grocery store on the way home. I think something's in the works."

"Huh?" Dean asked, as Cas joined him on the bed, startled out of near-sleep.

"I saw Ben and Millie. They want to set up a dinner with us, and her parents."

"Oh," Dean settled, turning onto his side and draping an arm over Cas.

"I happened to notice she was wearing a ring," Cas added with a heavy hint.

Dean's eyes opened slightly, "Circle of little purple stones around the big one?"

"I believe so, yes," Cas answered.

"'Bout damn time," Dean mumbled.

Cas raised an eyebrow, "You must have had some idea, to know that."

Dean shook his head, "Was Lisa's... He asked for it when he was seeing Caitlin."

"Caitlin? And you gave it to him?"

"Not my business," Dean mumbled once more, "'s over eighteen, can do what he wants."

"Seems a bit cavalier, given where it came from," Cas mused.

Dean's breathing quickly became deeper and more even with a slight rattle, not quite a snore, and Cas moved to shift the covers over them, considering whether he should have turned down the bed while Dean was in the shower. Dean's arm tightened greatly as he began to pull away, and through his sleep, he gave a nearly verbal noise of objection. "Ah-uh, Cas," it came out as a whine.

It was a feat within itself to compromise with Dean when he was sleeping, but he managed it. Settling in once more, he considered Dean's bare left hand on his chest, and the set that had never turned up. He had done his best to soothe Dean's guilty feelings at having lost them, but he was aware it still nagged at Dean.

But Dean was not aware that Charlie had run across a type of silicone band that was ideal for constant wear, despite his industry, as the material would stretch and even tear before dismembering or degloving a digit. He was also not aware that Cas, despite his requests not to 'waste money' on another set he might lose, had ordered one in his size, which had their initials and anniversary imprinted within the band.

Cas ran a hand through Dean's hair softly as he began to drift off, certain that given the opportunity, he'd marry Dean again in an instant. And once the band arrived, hopefully in time for their anniversary, he intended to say so.

* * *


End file.
